Aphrodisiac
by Eva Faust
Summary: Hermiones asked to join The Order in her seventh year by none other than Severus Snape, yet his agenda isn't clear. As Hermione draws closer to the truth she finds herself growing closer to her Professor. Note:GoF compliant with some OotP thrown in.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione tapped her quill on her parchment, not noticing the dark splotches it made. _Where is he?_ She thought, biting her lip and twisting her neck around to look at the glowing void left by the open dungeon door.

_He said twelve o'clock, he said twelve o'clock. I swear to Merlin that he said twelve o'clock._

Hermione had never been asked to Professor Snapes office before and what with nearing the end of her seventh year, and stubbournly sure she had done nothing wrong, she was clueless as to why. Having approached the room five minutes early, she found the door open and took it as an invite to go in. The room was quite empty so she figured the Professor was running late from a class and decided to settle herself, choosing to take a seat in front of his desk. She took out her quill, some ink and a piece of parchment to scribble down some notes she had locked into her brain during transfiguration class.

Now she had long sense run out of things to write and, noticing the dark smudges of ink sinking into her work she decided to pack her things away with a grimace lining her face and a huff escaping her lips. Hermione was not worried about Professor Snapes well-being at all. She had no care for a man who held only contempt for her. No pity for a man who made her class-time agony, especially during the last few months.

She was, however, anxious. What had he planned to discuss with her? Why had he asked to see her? Had she done something wrong?

She bent her neck back and looked up at the cold, dank ceiling. She pulled her bushy brown hair out of her round, brown eyes and held it up in the air, cooling her neck. With a sigh she let it fall again. _I am so bored _she thought. _Why did I not bring a book?_

There was a large banging noise from behind and Hermione jumped out of her seat with a start. Heart pumping hard she whipped around only to be confronted by a puffed chest and a contemptuous sneer.

"P-professor, I'm sorry, I-I didn't…"

"Miss Granger, I would have hoped that with your intellect, manners would not evade you." Snape interrupted her with his usual silky manner.

"I-I…"

"I am of course, disappointed. I suppose waltzing into empty offices uninvited is a muggle custom is it?"

"No…I…"

"Do not answer that! Fifty points from Gryffindor, now sit down Miss Granger!"

Moving of its own accord, the chair knocked Hermione behind her knees and caught her as she fell.

Hermione watched as Professor Snape swept behind his desk in a most dramatic gesture and floated down into his chair, all the while maintaining the scorn spread across his face. Hermione could not remember him ever looking at her with that much disdain, and suddenly she was quite afraid of what he was going to do to her.

"That was a very disrespectful thing to do Miss Granger," Snapes face softened, Hermione let go of her breath. "I understand you may feel above the practice of waiting to be let in and I do hope at our next meeting you shall pertain to such practices."

Hermione gulped, "N-next meeting, sir?" She didn't even know what this meeting was about and now he was establishing a next meeting?

"Yes…well, we will discuss that later, for now, I shall speak and I shall not be interrupted, understand?" Snapes eyes narrowed, Hermione nodded her head and looked down at her feet, _what is going on?_

"You are the best student in my class and indeed, in your year."

Hermione shifted in her seat and stared hard at her feet as she felt her cheeks grow hot.

Snape noticed this movement and averted his eyes. "No need for modesty Miss Granger, I am not complimenting you, I am merely stating a fact, a fact that has not gone unnoticed, even by me.

"I am in need of a consultant." Hermione could feel Snapes eyes suddenly burrow into her.

"And the problem is," Snape continued to stare, his voice pompous and sarcastic, "I need the best, and to my utter dismay," He looked away into the darkness, his voice growing softer and a little forlorn, "I need you."

Hermione gasped. _What on earth? What for? Why in the hell would Snape need me? _

She remained silent.

Snape shifted his sight back to her, trying to meet her eyes. Hermione looked at him unconsciously then looked away quickly. His eyes fixated on her and to Hermione cowering in the chair, he seemed like a wolf readying himself for the kill.

"I need your word that you will not tell a soul what you are about to hear, do you understand?" His silky voice became slightly raspy.

Hermione nodded without looking at him. She had never been so scared of a man in her life.

"Your word Miss Granger!" Snape belted.

Hermione felt on the verge of tears, she was confused and completely enraged, and over-all, she felt ridiculous. Like a four year old being sent to her room for something she didn't even understand. _A consultant?_ She thought.

"Miss Ganger!" Snape snapped.

"Yes…I…I give you my word."

Her words echoed in the eerie silence that followed. Hermione poured over what had just happened in her mind, she felt small in her chair as she watched Snape stare at something behind her transfixed. She would have turned around to see if there was something there if she hadn't of felt as if Snape would chop off her head at the instant she moved.

His eyes returned to hers, she figured that he was just gazing into space.

He shifted forwards in his chair and Hermione wished with all her might that she could just dissaparate out of hers and find herself in a place far, far away from this dungeon.

"Let me begin by telling you that none of this was my idea," Snape had a very conversational tone, quickened and a lot less delicate then Hermione had ever heard him speak as. "Dumbledore, and the order alike, have all agreed that you are the brightest witch in Hogwarts, and indeed, you show great adaptability to anything put in front of you, even the most advanced of magic.

"I however, think they give you more credit then you deserve," Snape leaned in further and became careful again with his words. "Now, this is your opportunity to prove me wrong.

"As you know, the order is not inclined to baby-sit. We do not let young ones into the order. Yet, we are not stupid."

Hermione's mind suddenly emptied. _Me? In the Order?_

Snape cleared his throat. "Well, at least, _most_ of us aren't."

Hermione suddenly thought of Sirius, and felt a surge of disgust for Snapes utter immaturity.

Snape continued looking slightly satisfied. "We know when we cannot let someone with such…potential go to waste. We feel, or at least, Dumbledore feels that you can be of much use to us, and more specifically me."

Hermione was aghast; _Dumbledore wants Snape to use me? _

Snape snickered. "I was astonished as well. _You_ could be of use to _me_? HAH!"

Hermione gripped the armrests of her chair and puffed herself up.

"I am of course, in no position to question Dumbledore's judgment. So here you are, and I am now required to ask for your _consultations _during certain appointments across the week. This will add nothing to your academic record and suffice to say, will be kept completely secret, even from your little friends, Potter and Weasley."

Snape paused. Hermione was wide eyed and utterly confused. Somehow, Snape had managed to compliment her, insult her, explain everything and explain nothing in one sitting, and had left her completely bewildered. She decided to forgo the interruption clause in order to decipher the entire speech.

"So…I…I will be working alongside you…for the Order?" She stammered.

"Yes you will." He said, as he stood up abruptly. He swept towards Hermione's chair, ushered her up and drove her towards the door.

Hermione had little time to grab her bag let alone decipher what on earth was going on. As she scrambled out the door Snape grabbed her arm and bore his sharp eyes into hers.

"I hope you understand the consequences if you agree to this arrangement" He hissed in her ear. "You have three days to give me your answer."

He shoved her out of the door, whisked around and slammed the door behind her back.

Hermione tugged at her robes, they had become unbearably uncomfortable. _What on earth am I going to do?_ She asked herself as she headed up the stone steps towards her next class.

Hermione was never one to make any decision lightly. She had spent the past three days constantly mulling over the meeting she had had with Snape, weighing up all possibilities, and sorting her own mental anguish. She deliberated over the aforementioned consequences Snape had gladly hissed into her ear, and found the only consequence of saying yes to this opportunity she could possibly find unbearable was that she had to work with Professor Snape.

Hermione was anything but a coward, and she couldn't help but be incredibly excited over the fact that Dumbledore believed that she could contribute to the defeat of Voldemort. Not only excited, but slightly big headed in fact. She had the opportunity of a life time in the palm of her hands.

However certain questions still plagued her. Like _why _was she chosen? Snape certainly gave her no explanation and Hermione was never silly enough to assume it was purely for her smarts. She also wondered how Dumbledore could leave her in the hands of that cold, vile excuse for a wizard. Someone who had loathed her from the moment he had laid eyes on her. She could not comprehend Dumbledores reasoning behind this entire affair, and, for the first time in her life, doubted him.

It was a Sunday, the third day, the day on which she had to make a decision that would no doubt change her life path. Her mind had been absent from all classes and weekend affairs over the past few days, and as she watched Harry and Ron head towards the quidditch pitch on the unseasonably warm winters day, she felt a jagged rock sink into the pit of her stomach.

It was fast approaching twelve and her deliberations would soon be at an end. As she begrudgingly thumped her way down the steps toward Snapes dungeon office, she could not help but wish it were someone else. She would have gladly worked under Professor McGonagall's wing, or Remus, he would have been a wonderful person to work with. At least she would have felt safe.

Hermione looked out the last window as she headed underground. The blue sky and bright sun mocked her begrudging state. She felt a surge of unreasonable anger that quickly fled her mind as she approached Snapes large, black door. Instead, she was overcome with fear.

Again, the door was open, yet Hermione was not stupid enough to just walk in, having already made that dismal mistake once. She lingered in the doorway for a short time, contemplating knocking, but afraid of disturbing the black silence in front of her.

She took a deep breath, made her hand into a fist and raised it to send a knock into the blackness. The thud of her fist echoed into the room, and she heard a shuffle of papers and then a figure in black approached the door.

"Ah, she has manners after all." Snape noted, smirking at her. "I see no point in asking you in until I hear your answer, a simple yes or no will do."

Hermione didn't expect that, she had expected a discussion of sorts, to help with the incredibly hard decision facing her. She cleared her throat and muttered something under her breath, inaudible to the human ear.

"Ahhh…" said Snape, eyes widening. "I hear uncertainty, well, if that is all you can muster, I will see you in class tomorrow." Snape turned on his heal.

Hermione gasped. "Yes!" she barked, not containing the horror on her face as she uttered this word. "I will…uh…I will work with you, for the Order."

Snape turned back with a start, his eyes narrowed and his lips curled. "Are you sure Miss Granger? Are you sure you are prepared for such a task?"

His silky voice caught at the back of his throat, leaving the last sentence choked.

"Yes, I am." Hermione stated with more certainty then she felt.

"Very well," Snape snapped, "You will go to your room and change into your robes. We will meet here at twelve forty five."

Hermione whipped around and clambered up the steps. Her heart tightened. Why did she feel as if she had just sold her soul to the devil himself?

It was a breathless, frazzled girl that stumbled down the steps, reaching Snapes office door at precisely twelve forty five. She had never appreciated before how long it truly took to climb all those stairs up to Gryffindor tower. Completely exhausted she mustered up the strength to pull her small fist up and wrapped gently on the door.

No answer.

Waiting a short while, she scoured over all possibilities of what may have happened to Snape, although she wasn't so much worried as completely annoyed that she had put in so much effort to get there on time when he was late. _Probably deliberately disrespecting me_ she thought, gritting her teeth in an effort to control her temper.

"Hello Miss Granger," said a cool, smooth voice from behind. Though the voice sent shivers down her spine, Hermione made an effort not to turn around, and instead stared hard at the snake engravings on the door as she felt Snape brush by her and saw his ghostly hand twisting the door knob. Watching him sweep into the room, black robes trailing behind she followed him obediently.

"Always keep the enemy guessing Miss Granger," Snape told her as he floated into his chair, his head bowed and his eyes examining a long scroll of parchment set in front of him.

Hermione merely made an effort not to roll her eyes, but a disturbing thought sprang to mind. _I'm the enemy._

Snape remained still, examining his parchment and seemingly ignoring Hermione's existence. Hermione took the time to absorb the room and its contents. After all, she would be spending a lot of time there; she may as well grow to be at ease with it.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the utter darkness of this place. If it weren't for the three candles that seemed to be forever burning in a golden haze on Snapes desk, the darkness would cloak their eyes. This made any effort to see around her almost impossible. Though she could make out shapes of bookshelves and vials full of coloured liquids and what she assumed were dead animals, she could not see any further detail, so instead turned her eyes back to the desk.

Snapes desk was modest. It was small, and was made of a dark stained wood that looked very much past its' use by date. Hermione could make out messy etchings in the wood, but it was so worn it was hard to tell exactly what it said, though she could tell it was written in a Latin dialect. The desk was baron, apart from the three candles, a few bottles of ink, a few spare quills and the long parchment Snape was devouring with an intensity in his eyes.

Hermione watched Snape, with a lack of anything better to look at. She studied his curtain of black hair, one side tucked behind his ear, the other draping over his eyes. She watched his hands, propped on each side of the parchment, softly clenched into fists. His nose was his most obvious feature, framed by his hair it was slightly crooked and pointed down.

Hermione wondered what would happen if she interrupted him, she was quickly becoming bored and restless, and again, like the last time she found herself in there, wished she had brought a book.

She shifted in her chair and Snape looked up.

"Patience is a virtue Miss Granger." Snape had a crooked smile etched across his face.

Hermione sank into her chair, the silence was so blatant, and the boredom so bland that she felt she might actually fall asleep. She felt a warm hand rest upon her shoulder and she snuggled closer to it, holding it in her hands she pushed it up to her cheeks. She smiled a comfortable loving smile.

"Miss Granger!" Hermione jumped with a yelp. She had fallen asleep. She was mortified.

"You must always be attentive, always be alert, always be watching. If I had been your enemy, I could have slit your throat." Snape moved swiftly back towards his side of the desk. Hermione was wide awake.

"Always know your enemies weakness," Snapes lips curled. "It seems you get bored a little too easily Miss Granger."

"So that was a lesson?" Hermione said tentatively.

"It was a test, a test you failed." Snape smirked.

Hermione gulped. _Failed?_ She had never failed anything in her life.

"Fear of failure, another weakness."

Hermione had a strong sense that Snape had read her mind.

"And I assure you," Snape interrupted her thought pattern, "I do not need to read your mind to discover your weaknesses. Your biggest weakness seems to be the fact that you wear your heart on your sleeve. A muggle expression, no? I have no need to read your mind if it's written all over your face."

Hermione felt amiss. He was playing games with her, and all she felt like doing in that moment was ripping her face clean off and running out the door. However, sick of being bullied and feeling small and very unlike herself, she felt the sudden urge to forgo the teacher-student relationship and snap back for once.

"Couldn't hiding your heart behind a cruel, snide demeanor also be considered a weakness?" Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, she felt her sudden sense of pride and anger melt into a bucket of fear. _Oh shit…_ she thought.

Snape merely widened his eyes in surprise. "Oh yes, it could Miss Granger." He muttered harshly as he turned his back to her.

"Or at least a sign of underlying weakness?" Hermione was shocked at her own boldness and wanted to clamp her mouth shut with a vice. Snape did not flinch. Instead he remained back facing her, silent. Hermione was scanning him for some sign of a reaction, she half expected him to turn around with tears streaming out of his eyes. Maybe she had hit the nail on the head.

_Or maybe not_ she thought as he turned to face her. His lips curled into a smile, his eyes suddenly burrowing into hers. They looked like black pools glistening in the candle light. He moved towards her slowly. She felt her face tighten and her body pressing into the back of the chair. Was he going to hit her? Her hand scrambled inside her pocket, looking for her wand which she gripped so tightly that she felt the wood cut into her palm.

He gripped the sides of her chair and bent slowly towards her. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her lips. The tip of his nose touched the tip of hers and she felt a drop of her own sweat fall from her forehead and slide down her cheek. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and holding her breath, she prodded it into his gut.

"Do not pretend to know me little girl." He hissed to her lips, paying no attention to the wand.

Hermione scrunched her face up tightly, shutting her eyes. She was frozen and small, her wand heavy under Snapes weight.

Snape relinquished his position, backing away briskly and turning his nose up at Hermione.

She felt the weight lifted and the sense of him so close to her gone, but she feared opening her eyes.

"Oh open your eyes, child." Snape snapped. With a swish of his black robe he was back in his chair, staring at the parchment once again.

Hermione opened one eye at a time, fearing what she would see in front of her. She was slightly startled to find him so far away so soon, and her body immediately relaxed sending shivers down her spine. Her heart still pounded hard and her mind raced with thoughts of fleeing the scene. _Run away, RUN AWAY!_ Yet she was glued to the chair, staring at the man in front of her, transfixed on his calm expression and utter concentration on whatever the _hell_ was written on that parchment.


	2. Chapter 2

The problem with boredom it seems is that it produces a form of anxiety. The boredom Hermione was facing was the consequence of her having to watch her Professor peruse over a document she knew nothing about, the anxiety she experienced was only exacerbated by the fact that she was terrified to move. Anxiety as you may well know, and as Hermione certainly does, being the cleverest witch of her age, produces certain chemicals in the body likened to that which are produced when one is aroused. Hermione was determinedly not aroused by her current situation, yet she increasingly felt as if she was. This chemical reaction inside her made her studies of the professor take on a new light as she shifted in her chair and tried to think of other, more amiable things such as flowers or her approaching grand-mothers birthday.

It had, in fact, been an hour since Professor Snapes outburst. An hour since he had returned to his seat and an hour since Hermione had the courage to breathe comfortably. Snape was a frightening man, an interesting, frightening man. Having him in close proximity was most intimidating, but with a determined grimace lining her face and her anxiety in check, Hermione decided she was not going to be intimidated any more.

She started small, shifting in her chair, moving closer to the desk, coughing slightly under her breath and making clicking noises with her tongue. Snape did not flinch. With a frown Hermione began tapping her toes and humming a Muggle tune she had replayed in her head for the past half hour. Snape did not flinch. Hermione sighed heavily and rested her chin on her hands watching Snapes face which seemed forcibly determined not to look up, his eyes darting across the long scroll, his black hair pulled behind his ears.

Hermione noted how interesting Snapes face was. It was certainly peculiar, being pale with large features, particularly his nose and his large black eyes. She tossed her head into different angles, ascertaining that at some he almost looked handsome. She began to wonder about things like what his hobbies were, whether he liked cats and whether he had ever been laid in his life. The latter thought startled her and she pushed it out of her mind.

Hermione pulled her bushy hair back and released it three or four times before she let out a very loud groan and sunk back into her chair.

"I wonder" Snape interjected, "what is it that has kept you in my office for so long Miss Granger?" Snapes eyes still remained on the parchment.

"I…didn't know I could leave, Professor?" The thought had sincerely never occurred to her, and suddenly she felt very stupid and very annoyed.

"Why did you think that? Are you not a free entity? Do you not have the ability to move of your own free will? Are you under the Imperius Curse perhaps?" Snape mused as he looked up.

"No I am not under any curse thank you very much." Hermione felt her blood begin to boil.

"Then maybe I frighten you?" Snape stood up in one swift move, bearing over her.

"No." Hermione lied defiantly, sitting up in her chair with a very serious expression falling on her face. She was not one to let others know her fears; she was a Gryffindor after all.

Snape darted around the table almost playfully with a smirk on his face as if he were about to start a game of cat and mouse. Hermione was of course the mouse.

"I am not afraid of you Professor." Hermione stood up confidently coming face to face with Snape, or more face to chest as she realised he was at least a foot taller than her. She gripped her wand again, Snape snickered.

"Come now, do you really believe you could ever out do me in a duel?" Snape stepped back swiftly and pulled out his wand in record time. Silently Hermione felt her wand leave her hand of its own accord and watched it dance playfully into Snapes open hand. "Now are you afraid?" Snapes lips curled to reveal a malicious smile.

"No!' Hermione bellowed and she took a large step towards Snape, meeting the tip of his wand. She felt him press it into her chest, as her heart beat raced and she stared deep into his eyes. Her mind was for once cleared of thought and all she knew was that she truly was no longer scared.

Snape lowered his wand and stood back, still maintaining eye contact. His grin was gone and he took on a very serious tone. "Well done Miss Granger." He stated, placing the wand back inside Hermione's pocket and resuming his seat at his desk. "You may leave." He gestured towards the door as it swung open.

Hermione gathered her composure, adjusting to what just happened as she turned on her heel. Fists clenched and teeth gritted she stormed towards the door and slammed it shut behind her. Not a thought entered her mind as she raced up the stares to Gryffindor Tower, ignoring passing queries as to whether she was ok. She didn't feel a thing until she entered her Head Girl private room. Slamming the door behind her she dropped to the floor, sobbing with sheer frustration and rage, slamming her fist on the hard wood below.

It had been over a week until Hermione spoke to Snape again. Stubbourn and unwilling to let go of her anger, she spent the week completely blind-sighting him. In her resolve she chose not to even raise her hand in potions class, instead doing the task set and walking out as soon as she was dismissed. Snape didn't seem to notice, or care, which made her willpower hold even though it was killing her not letting the world know she knew all the answers.

Harry and Ron had only noticed her behaviour after the high of the quidditch win had wore off. They approached her quite a few times only to be met by a very angry waft of brown hair. Hermione couldn't tell them what was wrong, she had sworn that she wouldn't and she was afraid if she spoke to them she might let it fly out of her mouth before she could control it. She felt very much alone in the world, and chose to spend her days and nights when not in class curled up under her quilt, studying.

It wasn't till Monday night that she felt a sudden urge to be away from her room, to be outside. She snatched her cloak from the end of the bed and with being past curfew in mind, she snuck out silently, ducking behind things and peaking around corners until she had reached the front door where she waited patiently for a Professor to come in or go out.

She didn't have to wait long as she watched a tall dark figure whisper enchantments and open the door. Swiftly she sprung to her feet and slid through the remaining crack before the door shut. She felt the cold air sting her warm skin, and breathed it in heavily. She pressed herself against the wall as she watched the figure move towards the front gate. Curiosity getting the better of her, she followed him, cloaked by the darkness and silencing her footsteps with a Silencio spell she had perfected quite a while ago.

The moon lifted from the clouds as she peered through the gate. She recognised the face to be none other then Remus Lupin, who seemed, even under the pale moonlight, to have achieved colour in his skin and a strength she hadn't ever seen in him before. He greeted the tall dark man with a stern look and began to whisper immediately and quite vigorously. Hermione couldn't understand a word he was saying, and although the night no longer cloaked her very well, she crouched down and moved steadily towards a nearby tree to obtain a closer listen. As she strained her ears she wished dearly that she had kept a pair of Fred and George Weasley's Extendable Ears.

"She is not to find out until we are certain she can handle herself. It is a great fear of mine and of Dumbledore's that she will lose her mind if we tell her." Lupin's whispers were forceful and alarming. "I know you enjoy your little games, but if we find out you've hurt her in any way…"

He was cut off by the tall dark man.

"I have not" Snapes voice was recognised immediately by Hermione, "nor will ever hurt her, you have my word."

"Good…good." Remus seemed relieved, "I worry that your tests will be too harsh; she is only a young girl."

"She is a great deal more then that." Snape scoffed, he almost seemed taken aback by Remus' attitude.

"Yes, yes, you are right." Remus conceded, he seemed bothered and his furrowed brow concurred. "Send me an owl the moment after your next meeting with her, I will return to headquarters and inform the rest of your progress so far."

"Indeed." Snape nodded his head as he watched Remus disappear into the night.

Hermione watched her Professor stand for a moment in silent contemplation. He seemed worn and almost sullen. She had already assumed that the 'young girl' referred to was indeed herself, it seemed the right conclusion to draw with the mention of The Order headquarters and the 'tests' Snape had put the young girl through.

Hermione herself stood in silent contemplation too. She wondered what she was to be told if she passed these 'tests'. She wondered why it seemed as though Snape was almost defending her, and why Remus was worried about him hurting her. She took a step closer to Snape but losing concentration she tripped over a fallen stick and landed on the pathway behind him.

Hermione scrambled to her feet only to be met again my Snapes chest.

"What on earth are you doing here you STUPID girl!?" Snapes eyes met hers with such fury that all Hermione could do was back away slowly. "Well!?" Snape added, keeping close to Hermione, maintaining eye contact.

Hermione lost her words, tears welled in her eyes and she wished for nothing else but to fade into nothingness.

"No answer then, hmm? I assume you wanted to go for a quiet midnight stroll and just happened upon a little conversation. Curiosity got the better of you then?"

Hermione, although knowing it was sarcasm she was faced with, couldn't help but want to giggle at the accuracy Snape had unthinkingly attained.

"200 points from Gryffindor and detention for you, and your sniveling little friends over there!" Snape pointed over her shoulder.

Hermione spun around to see Harry and Ron standing stock still, only half cloaked by Harry's invisibility cloak. _Oh no, stupid, stupid boys_ she thought out of complete concern. Moving swiftly towards them, she pulled the invisibility cloak off, stuffing it under her cloak. Grabbing their arms she ran towards the castle, repeatedly spitting the words 'foolish' and 'idiotic' at them. She hoped beyond all hope that in the darkness Snape had only supposed that Ron and Harry had been distorted by the moonlight and not by an invisibility cloak. They reached the door and Harry shrugged Hermione off him.

"What on earth was that about!?" he exclaimed with a fierce concern.

Hermione, out of breath, twisted her neck to look behind her, watching Snape waft towards them up the path. "I can't explain, just do what Professor Snape says, and don't mention the cloak!" She said hurriedly.

Ron's expression was one of shock and she pushed them closer to the door and stood in front. They heard the door unlock and Harry and Ron fell back as it swung open behind them.

"To your rooms!" Snape barked and they swiftly clambered up and headed inside. "Not you!" Snape noted, grabbing Hermione's arm as she made her way through the door.

Harry spun around determined to help Hermione. Hermione looked up to find Harry raising his wand and yelled 'No!" She caught her breath and whispered loudly, "I will be ok, now go!"

Harry glared at Snape but noting the sincerity in Hermiones voice, decided to leave it and return upstairs. Ron too was still there at the base of the stair well, but followed Harry up the stairs, obviously perplexed by the situation.

Hermione found herself sitting at her Professors desk once again, this time with a very sore arm. Snape had dragged her the entire way to the Dungeon without a word, allowing her to stew on all the things she had heard Remus and Snape say and become increasingly angrier the nearer to Snapes office they got.

Snape flopped in his chair, propped his elbows on his desk, pushed his hands through his hair and gave a heavy sigh. He stared down at nothing and seemed tired and worn.

"What exactly did you hear?" Snapes anger had left him; his voice was silky and smooth yet almost a little forlorn.

Shocked by her Professors worn nature, Hermione lost her anger and lied. "I didn't hear anything." She bowed her head.

Snape leaned forward, burrowing his eyes into her and breathed in heavily. "You haven't been answering questions in class." He paused, waiting for a response.

Hermione looked up at him. Was he concerned? She couldn't tell. "I'm sorry." She said, almost as a question.

Snape heaved himself out of his chair and walked slowly towards hers. He leaned against the desk in front of her, looking away to the side of the office blankly.

Hermiones arm felt very sore, and as her anger subsided the pain grew. She started to rub it.

"I hope I didn't hurt you." Snape said as he resumed looking at her.

Hermione didn't say anything as she stopped rubbing her arm.

"You ought to get back to your room and go to sleep. I'll instruct you and your two musketeers about detention in class tomorrow." Snape swished around, facing the back of the room.

"Why…were you talking to Remus, sir?" Hermione enquired with specific emphasis on the 'sir'.

"Leave!" Snape echoed as the door swung open behind her.

Hermione stepped cautiously away as her mind swam with thoughts. As she felt the door shut behind her she stood for what seemed hours trying to analyse what had just happened until finally she resolved that her confusion would not be lifted until she got some sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione dragged herself to breakfast the next morning, immediately barraged by the two musketeers Snape referred to the night before.

"Hermione! Are you ok? Did he hurt you!? Oh if he did I'll kill him! I swear I will!" Ron couldn't help but make Hermione smile. She knew he liked to talk tough even though he was terrified by Snape and had been since their first potions class.

Harry was a little more subdued. "I'm glad to see you're ok." He muffled through a piece of toast. "What was Snape doing talking to Remus? Why were you going out there? Who were they talking about?"

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't know Harry; I just wanted some fresh air. Snape just told me that he was going to give us our detention this morning in Potions, and then told me to leave."

Harry very obviously wore an expression of disbelief on his face.

"It's true, I swear!" Hermione white lied, dropping her voice to a whisper she said "I have your cloak under my bed, you boys are damn lucky that Snape didn't notice that the top half of your bodies were missing!"

"Yeah, he seemed distracted" Harry scoffed, still skeptic over what Hermione said.

"Wait!" Ron said, seeming to have something important to contribute to the conversation. "I don't have potions this morning! Does that mean I don't get detention!?' He sounded very excited over this prospect.

"I don't think so Ron." Hermione smiled warmly and shook her head.

Ron sighed heavily and looked mournfully at his bacon and eggs.

"Hermione," Harry asked, "what's been wrong with you lately? Why haven't you spoken to us?"

Hermione had completely forgotten that she had spent the past week ignoring their existence and scrambled her brain for any excuse. "PMS!" she finally yelped after much speedy deliberation in her mind. This was followed by a few giggles from surrounding tables within earshot. Hermiones cheeks grew red. "Anyway, I have to go get my potions book, I left it upstairs." She picked up her books off the table, one very much like her potions textbook and strutted out of the great hall determined not to look behind her.

"Women!" she heard Ron scoff from behind through a very full mouth as she felt Harry's eyes burrow into her back.

"I worry about you" Harry confessed as he watched Hermione unpack her things next to him in potions. "You didn't answer any questions all week, you refused to talk to us; you huddled yourself up in your room and never came out except to classes and to eat. I don't understand, ever since Snape called you to his office you've been acting weird. I'm not stupid, and Ron isn't either. We know something's going on."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say, so she tried to act calm and very normal. "Boys," she rolled her eyes, "they never understand the ways of a woman." She flopped into her chairs with a very fake smile planted on her face and tried to act nonchalant about the entire ordeal. She figured the less serious she acted, the sooner she could convince Harry that everything was OK, even though it most certainly wasn't.

"I wish you would just talk to us," Harry sighed, looking very hurt, "We are your best friends; we've been through so much toge…" Harry was cut off by Snapes dramatic entrance into the classroom.

Snape spent much of the class lecturing about the many properties of scorpion tail and how it was used in many potions as a means to ward off a natural death. Hermione still chose not to raise her hand, but listened intently to the lecture, watching Snapes robes swish back and forth through the classroom, trying to keep her mind off the word 'insane.'

At the end of the lesson Snape approached Hermione and Harry, telling them they were to have separate detentions, Hermiones on Tuesdays, Harry's on Thursdays. "And you can tell that Weasley boy that his is to be every Wednesday night after dinner." Snape sneered before herding them out of the room.

Hermione was almost excited over her detention being that very night. Although overly tired, she felt she needed answers. She could not go to the library to find them, she was not provided with any clues apart from the fact that knowing the truth may send her insane. It was an eerie thought that screamed in her mind every time she thought about the previous night.

Harry seemed firm in the idea that he was not to leave her side for the rest of the day. She protested to his calls that she was not fine, but let him stay by her. Part of her was frustrated by his constant company, the other part was thankful for the comfort and distraction. She wished she could tell him, and beyond anything else, break down in tears on his shoulder just to alleviate this horrible congested feeling she had carried with her for a while now.

Dinner came with speed, and Harry informed Ron of his detention. Ron's face sunk. Wednesday nights were the nights he had allocated to his own quidditch practice, and this year was so important to win, being his last year at Hogwarts. Ron asked Hermione if she could put in a good word for him tonight but Hermione just gave him a warm smile and said she doubted Professor Snape would care about the practice of the Gryffindor keeper. Ron's face sunk lower as he picked and prodded at his dinner.

Hermione finished her dinner quickly, wanting to leave for the dungeons as soon as possible. As she got up to leave Harry put his hand on hers.

"Be careful." He told her, his large eyes sincere and sad.

Hermione felt a pang of guilt surge in her stomach and immediately wished she hadn't eaten so quickly. "Don't worry Harry, I will be fine." She reassured him.

Harry didn't look convinced but gave her a small smile and Ron waved bye with a worried look lining his face.

Hermione approached Snapes office with much caution. She ran over and over again in her mind what she was going to ask him. She wondered if he would let her speak at all, but then pushed aside her worries for she knew that she was going to ask regardless. She hesitated as she curled her fingers into a fist to wrap on the sizeable door. The knock echoed and the door creaked open. She entered guardedly, measuring up every corner she could make out in the shadowed room. She saw Snape scribbling something at his desk and tip-toed her way to her usual chair, tense and waiting for the moment Snape would snap at her. She found refuge in the chair. It had become somewhat of a home away from home, as she felt some uncharacteristic comfort in it.

Snape looked up, his dark eyes examining Hermione. They didn't look stern or callous as was the norm. They seemed concerned and slightly forlorn. He placed his quill carefully beside the parchment on which he had been writing, and clasped his hands together in front of him. He seemed as though he was about to speak but then sighed instead and looked down at the edge of his desk shaking his head. Hermione was growing most tense and couldn't stand keeping her mouth shut any longer.

"What are you keeping from me? Why does Remus Lupin believe if I know I will go insane? Why am I more than just a 'young girl' in your eyes? What do these tests mean!? And why the hell do you want me in the Order!?" Hermione caught her breath. She had inadvertently stood up and slammed her fists on Snapes desk. Her cheeks were red and her bushy hair was wild. She had lost her temper completely and renouncing all consequences she climbed over Snapes desk, knocking over his ink allowing it to spill over the parchment underneath and held her wand to Snapes neck.

Snape did not flinch. He wasn't frightened, a mere smug expression crossed his face as he felt the wand press ever harder into his adams apple.

Aggravated, Hermione pushed herself closer to him, a spark of hatred hitting her as she looked intensely into his eyes. She felt like killing him, she felt like blasting his head off and she could do it. Just a few small words and she could do it. She lost all care for any answers. She lost all care for anything except how much she wanted to see the man in front of her dead.

Suddenly she felt sick, as if she were about to vomit. She lost her grip on the wand and it fell to the floor. Leaning forward she dry heaved. Snape sneered at her reproachfully and tried to move out of the way quickly as she threw up in his lap.

"Oh bloody well fantastic" Snape groaned.

Hermione awoke in a large, cold, unfamiliar room. Her eyes were blurry and her head hurt quite a lot. She found herself in a great expanse of silk sheets and as her eyes adjusted she noticed they were green with a silver trimming. _Slytherin colours _she thought as she began to remember the happenings of what seemed only moments ago.

She could remember entering Professor Snapes office and sitting in the comfortable chair. She could remember staring at him waiting for him to speak, and she could remember trying to hold back the questions she so longed to ask. After that her mind drew a blank.

A door opened beside the bed followed by a cloud of warm steam. Hermione dropped back down into a sleeping position but kept her eyes open. Snape entered the room through the steam cloud with only a towel around his waste. Hermione stopped herself from making a squeal of surprise as she watched Snape de-towel before putting on a long, dark green robe with silver trimming. She noted his trim, toned stark white body and his large, err, endowments. As he approached the bed she shut her eyes tightly hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't notice that she had been awake.

Silently caught in prayer, she felt a finger trace along her forehead, pulling hair off her face and tucking it behind her ear. It sent a small shiver down her spine as she heard a dark, smooth voice saying "Poor, young girl. She has no idea, absolutely no idea."

She heard quiet footsteps walk away and a door slowly shutting behind them. As she lay there in silent contemplation, she couldn't get the image of her naked professor out of her mind. Trying to shake these thoughts she examined more pressing issues, like retrieving lost memories of how she ended up here, unconscious in Snapes bed, after entering his office.

Still worn, she drifted in and out of consciousness, her mind intermingling between reality and dreams. Images of Snape on top of her, pinning her down entered her dreaming state. She spat in his face as he straddled her, mumbling incantations under his breath. She screamed, and bit and flailed and then she woke again. _Oh no_ she thought, as she pulled her arms out from under the covers, noticing markings on her wrist, smelling them to find the strong scent of de-bruising cream. _He couldn't have _she thought as she pushed the covers off her. Jumping out of the bed, she walked steadfast towards the large bathroom door, opening it to find a gilded mirror behind. She studied her state feeling tender all over. Her brown bushy hair in a worse state then she had ever seen before, her school robes were torn at her arms, torso and legs and her face was pale retaining markings of former bruises.

She pulled the bathroom door open and stormed towards the bedroom door, throwing it open to reveal a robed Snape reading a book on a dark lounge.

"You BASTARD!" She screamed, slamming into him with her fists, her body filled with rage. "YOU RAPED ME! HOW DARE YOU!" She felt violated, ashamed, and furious. She tore the book away from him and continued to pound on him.

Snape grabbed her arms, and in a very swift move, pinned her violent limbs to the lounge. "I DID NOT RAPE YOU!" He bellowed, straining to stop her from moving as she pulsated rhythmically underneath him, trying to bite his arms.

She spat in his face. "Oh yeah!? Then this position doesn't feel familiar to you then!?" She sneered as she thrashed about underneath his surprisingly strong, heavy body.

"I'll explain…if you…just…stop…moving!" Snape stammered as he struggled to hold on.

After a few more determined movements, Hermione gave up. She was never going to release herself from his grip. She slumped into the lounge as tears filled her eyes. She felt so very helpless.

Snape let go. He slid to the floor and sat upright, leaning against the lounge completely exhausted. "You may be clever Miss Granger, and feisty, I'll give you that one too, but you certainly know how to jump to the wrong conclusion."

Hermione let out defeated tears. Out of breath she stammered, "What…on earth…happened?"

"I need to tell you something, but first, I need a glass of water." Snape breathed heavily as he stood up and walked towards a small kitchen in the corner of the room. He came back with two glasses of water and Hermione snatched one from his hand and gulped it down greedily.

She placed the empty glass on the floor beside her in a huff, still angry and feeling as wary as ever.

Snape sipped his and sat next to her, clearing his throat which seemed for some reason a painful task for him to do, he looked into her wide brown eyes and calmly stated "You are not who you think you are."


	4. Chapter 4

**Archibald Gripes**

"Living forever seems the ultimate dream of most Wizards who dabble in the dark arts." Snapes voice was calm and silky. He had flicked his wand, transfiguring a nearby table into a chair, sitting in it to give Hermione the room to breath he figured she would need. "As was the tale of a young, extremely talented Wizard by the name of Archibald Gripes.

"Gripes was a cold, troubled boy who grew to be a cold, troubled Wizard. He attended Hogwarts until he turned seventeen in his sixth year, and chose to leave to pursue interests beyond what Hogwarts could teach him. He was cruel, snide, ugly and shrewd, having no interest in what others would offer him, only in what he could take from them.

"He traveled as a young Wizard, searching for treasures and powers greater then his own. He was a great wizard in many ways, discovering the many properties of scorpion tale in pursuit of his greatest want, eternal life.

"As he grew older he began conducting most disturbing experiments, such as dissecting unicorns to ascertain why they lived so long. He felt his time to die approaching, paranoid of death lurking around his shoulder and it wasn't until his one hundred and fiftieth year that he came back to Hogwarts in search of something else; a young Wizard much like him who he could successfully possess.

"He knew a great many potions to help him in his quest, disguising his true identity, cloaking his mind with new memories so that when Dumbledore tried legilmens he only succeeded in procuring the memories of a Durmstrang student curious to explore the Hogwarts Castle in order to determine whether he would like to attend next fall.

"Gripes succeeded in finding his counterpart in a young Thomas Riddle…"

Hermione gasped, enthralled in the story though entirely perplexed as to what it had to do with her.

"Ah yes," Snape continued, "the Dark Lord himself as a boy."

Hermione shifted in her seat. She was never comfortable with how her Professor referred to Voldemort as the 'Dark Lord.'

Snape watched for Hermione to settle and then continued with his story. "Riddle seemed young and foolish to Gripes, but had a taste for the Dark Arts which he was pleased by. Gripes heard rumours floating around from other students, tales of Riddle doing awful things to fellow students and small animals alike. This made Gripes joyous, eventually approaching Riddle when he was left to explore the castle of his own means, following him to the prefect's bathroom.

"It can be said with great certainty that Gripes unveiled himself to Riddle in that very bathroom, telling his tall tale of wanting a young apprentice to help him discover the elixir of life. All that is known of Riddle's reaction is the fact that he agreed to meet Gripes at The Hog's Head that weekend."

Snape sighed hard, "We do not know what they discussed at the Hog's Head, only that they were there and met again there a month down the line right before Christmas, meeting throughout the Christmas holidays and the summer holidays at various locations until Thomas Riddle graduated Hogwarts.

"As you may well have gathered, information about the Dark Lords life after Hogwarts is limited at best. What we do know is Gripes took on a mentor like role to young riddle and continued that role up until Thomas Riddle became the Dark Lord."

Hermione flinched at every mention of the 'Dark Lord'. She would have much preferred him to say, as Harry does quite frequently, 'Voldemort'.

"We shall skip ahead to a mid September day in the late 70's. According to sources the weather was in a terrible state, likened to a hurricane. A young heavily pregnant woman was toasting her feet in front of a fire when she went into a sudden premature labour. The husband rushed to a phone yet was unable to get a line out, and looking out the window at the storm all hopes were dashed about making it to the hospital in their small, poorly maintained Volkswagen Beetle."

All of this began to sound awfully familiar to Hermione.

Snape, noting Hermiones sudden change of expression, let an accomplished smirk cross his face as he continued.

"At that moment two men seemed to appear out of nowhere outside of the house. There were great noises coming from the side yard, followed by brilliant lights and screams of pain overpowering those of the young woman giving birth. A bright light was seen again as the lounge room window crashed open with the body of a very old man flying through landing right next to the young woman who shrieked and gave a last push to release her baby from her womb."

Snape seemed as dramatic as ever, his smirk never faltering for a moment. "Of course the two men were Wizards, and it was later determined by the Ministry of Magic that the dead man was no other than Archibald Gripes."

"That's a very dramatic story sir, but, and pardon me for asking, where do I fit in exactly?" Hermione asked this question in a huff. She was mightily entertained but not a bit amused by what seemed to be a very pointless tale.

"Gripes, as I said before, spent his life searching for a way in which he could obtain eternal life. I can say without hesitation that he ended his life in the same way."

"What do you mean to say?" Hermione enquired, still confused but a little fearful of catching on.

"Gripes was so determined to not see the end of his life, he entered the body of the closest, most vulnerable soul. He possessed the baby, the little girl the young woman gave birth too."

Hermione was in shock for a moment, but shook herself out of it to ask, "How do you know?"

Snape hooked his eyes on hers and moved forward in his chair. With a smooth voice he pronounced, "Because I was there."

Hermiones eyes narrowed as she began to piece the puzzle together. "You killed Gripes." She stated, without needing to ask.

"Indeed," Snape leaned back again, "On the Dark Lords orders, I hunted Gripes down and killed him. I watched him fall through the window and land next to the young woman. I watched his soul leave his body and enter the screaming child."

Hermione assumed the parents' memories were erased and she assumed Voldemort wouldn't have told Snape why he wanted Gripes killed; only that he had to do it. She only had one question to ask and she very much didn't want to ask it.

"Who…who was the baby?" Hermiones heart pumped vigorously. She wanted to crawl inside herself, yet she remained stock still, staring hard at Snape.

Snape moved uncomfortably in his chair, cleared his throat and once again sipped his water. "The baby was you."

And then there was darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione once again woke up in an unfamiliar place. This time, however, she was able to ascertain how she got there. She found herself on a black velvet lounge, in a room which she figured was Snapes by searching through her memory banks. Her mind was still cloudy though. As she sat up to look around her head spun and was met by a hand holding it and letting it slowly fall back on the pillow underneath.

"You've had a severe shock," Snapes voice was deep and soft, it soothed Hermiones throbbing head. "You must not get up so quickly."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, wrestling with her memories yet again.

"I didn't rape you if that's what you're thinking."

Hermiones giggle caught in her throat. Did Professor Snape just make a joke?

"I'll get you a glass of water." His disposition calmed Hermione.

Her calm was broken suddenly by the realisation of why she was in this state. "I was the baby" she whispered under her breath and felt the darkness approach again.

"Oh no you don't!" Hermione felt an arm grip underneath her as she almost slid off the lounge. Pulling her back on the lounge she heard Snape grunt and felt the weight of his head fall upon her torso. "If you keep doing this I will have to force feed you my anti-fainting potion."

Hermione opened her eyes to see Snape watching her intently. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable she shifted a little, pushing the blankets over a bit which in turn knocked over the glass of water residing beside her on the floor. "Sorry," she flinched, worried about Snapes reaction.

Snape just grunted again, picking up the glass to take to the sink and muttering a cleansing spell under his breath that immediately ridded the carpet of water.

Noticing Snapes wand Hermione instinctively tapped her pockets searching for her own.

"Oh no," Snape looked at Hermione disapprovingly, "not until I can be sure that you wont try to kill me."

Hermiones head grew hot followed by a sharp pain in her temple.

"Here," Snape offered Hermione a small yellow vial, "for severe headaches and uncontrollable temper."

Hermione smiled gratefully, though her eyes were laced with suspicion. She downed the bottle and felt better straight away. _He really is a great potion maker_ she thought.

"What happened in your office tonight?" Hermione enquired in a quiet, curious voice.

Snape explained her sudden temper, and her climbing over the desk in an attempt to kill him.

"That seems a little forward for me," Hermione joked, shocked at the description of her behaviour.

"It troubles me," Snapes face grew severe. "You're behaviour is becoming increasingly less like you, you are losing an increasing amount of memory. In my office on our first meeting you drifted out of consciousness and began murmuring things under your breath."

"I…I thought I fell asleep." Hermione searched her mind for some kind of recollection, to no avail.

"So did I for a moment."

"But, what did I, I mean, whoever, my unconscious, Gripes…oh Merlin." Hermione struggled to cope with the thought that someone else resided inside her. "What did Gripes say?"

Snape looked at Hermione with a grimace. "We need not talk about these things in your current condition. You must set aside your know-it-all nature and rest."

Hermione looked at Snape pityingly. This would normally be when she fired up, but the potion really did work well. "I'm quite rested, thank you very much. If this Gripes is inside _my_ body, don't you think I have the right to ask anything and everything that will help me get him out?" She was calm with her words, and sounded sincere in her question.

Snape shook his head, seemingly annoyed that he didn't get a rise out of her. "Well, I am tired," Snape sighed, "I wish only to rest my head on my pillow and leave you to your own dreams." With that he left Hermione, the candles snuffing out of their own accord after shutting his door, leaving the room in darkness.

Hermione heard Snape murmur a silencing spell at the door. She felt suddenly alone, laying still, her eyes wide and her mind running at a mile a minute.

For two hours Hermione lay on the lounge, terrified to shut her eyes and go to sleep. She wasn't afraid of the darkness or the strange noises throughout the room. She was afraid of something deeper. She was afraid of her own mind, uncertain as to what thoughts were hers and what thoughts weren't. There was someone inside her, someone who seemed purely evil, someone who enjoyed killing, someone she couldn't escape. With that thought she understood why Remus was frightened that she may go mad. Truth was she felt like she already had.

After deciding that sleeping alone was more frightening then the prospect of waking Snape up, she tiptoed across the floor towards his bedroom door. Opening it with a creak she was astounded not to find any wards keeping her from entering the blackened room. She tiptoed towards the bed, feeling her way through the darkness, uncertain as to what lay ahead of her.

BANG!

"OW!" Hermione cried into the night.

Snape leaped out of bed. "_LUMOS!_" He cried and his wand lit up the room, revealing Hermione bouncing around holding her swollen toe making odd noises, and Snape standing stark naked next to his bed.

"What are you doing in here!?" Snape snapped, scrambling into his bed sheets, covering himself up.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione stopped bouncing, her attention drawn to the naked Snape in front of her once again. "I…I was frightened." She finished lamely, knowing Snape was very close to becoming a cliché and transfiguring her into a toad.

"Were you raised by wolves!? Or are you too good for even the simplest of manners?" Snape hissed, his composure found and his intimidating qualities growing once again. "So you're frightened Miss Granger, frightened of what!?"

"Myself." Hermione was on the verge of tears. Suddenly she had an intense feeling of loneliness spurred on by Snapes uncomforting ways. She was sure he wasn't going to coddle her and tell her everything would be ok.

"Yourself? HAH!" Hermione was correct in her assumption. "You've lived with yourself every day of your short measly life. You do not need to fear yourself. In fact it is I who should be afraid, what with your other halves growing dislike for me."

"You _did _kill him." Hermione justified.

Snape scoffed. "Defending the man you're afraid of? Well I never…you must be pretty terrified."

Hermione gritted her teeth at the sound of his sarcasm and found that anger was available to her once again. "I'm just saying he seems to have a right to hate you! But he's a killer, and he's inside me! I can't work out which thoughts are my own and which aren't! I'm scared Snape, I'm truly scared…" she trailed off into small sobs as she fell to the floor.

"What did you call me?" Snape hissed.

Hermione answered with a louder sob at Snapes unsympathetic tone.

Snape grew aggravated by her sobs and was completely at a loss as to what to say next. He lay there in silence for a short while, listening to Hermiones cries. With a gruff huff he rolled over, facing away from her. "Get out." He hissed quietly through his teeth.

Hermione's sobs were stunted. "What?" She breathed in heavily, pulling her head out of her hands.

"GET OUT!" Snape roared, reaching for his wand quickly and flicking it towards the door. A sudden gust of wind surged through the room as the door banged open. Hermione felt suddenly lifted and heaved towards the door. With no wand to fight back, she felt helpless, allowing the waft to push her through the threshold. Collapsing on the other side, the door slammed in her face.

There were no words to describe how furious Hermione felt. Instead of breaking down into sobs again, she stood up defiantly and began pacing the length of the room. Back and forth she went with heavy feet, thoughts rushing through her mind. She felt indescribable anger for so many people; Professor Snape for his undeniable lack of humanity, Dumbledore for paring her up with the torturous man, Gripes for his invasion of her soul, Harry and Ron for not being there at that very moment so she could vent and her parents for just not knowing.

She smacked her head with her palm a few times, in an attempt to knock Gripes out. She wished she could just take a hook and tug him out. A picture of Gripes, a small, ugly old man holding onto her brain stem as she tried hard to pull him out her nose came to mind. This was an image that would have made her smile if it weren't so close to home.

Her anger and confusion grew as she entered the kitchen, looking for something to take it out on. She opened cupboards to find only two glasses, a few cans of food and a dozen empty fire-whiskey bottles. With a spark in her eye she set herself squarely on the bottles, wrapping her arms around as many as she could and carrying them towards Snapes bedroom door. With a wicked smile she tossed one at the door to the sound of a large smash, to which she clapped her hands in glee. She tossed another and another until she ran out and ran back to the kitchen to collect more.

The floor shone with sprinkles of glass when at last Hermione had smashed all twelve bottles, plus the two glasses and chucked the three cans at the door with the result of three large dents. She danced around, giggling with joy. She felt intoxicated and full of life.

The door suddenly opened and Hermione looked up to see her Professor Horrorstricken at the sight of her. He looked down at the ground and she followed his gaze to find a red liquid spilled all over the floor.

"Oh, my feet…" she whispered as she collapsed into the scattered glass.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione woke to the sounds of distance muffled voices. Her head ached with intensity akin to an earthquake in her frontal lobe. Although her eyes remained unopened, she could sense another presence in the room and although she had not flinched, she knew the presence could sense she was awake.

_Hermione_, the voice broke the pain as it invaded her mind, _you must not try to move, nor try to speak. Your body is under a healing spell which must not be perturbed until it is cast away. _

The voice, although in her mind, took on a male persona, wise and cracked with age.

_Dumbledore, _Hermione thought as the pain slammed into her once again. She heard fast footsteps echo as they approached, the familiar clonking of Madam Pomfrey's old fashioned heels. In an instant, the pain had gone and Hermione felt unbound, able to move freely.

She opened her eyes to find Madam Pomfrey standing over her, a concerned grimace lining her face. She saw Dumbledores hand reach up to Madam Pomfreys shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she turned and left the room. Hermione tilted her head towards Dumbledores face, which seemed forlorn yet determined.

"Hello" she said in her haze, clearly absent of any recollection as to how or why she was suddenly in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room and in the presence of her Headmaster.

Dumbledore gave a glimmer of a smile. "Why hello to you too Miss Granger. I trust you are out of any pain?"

"Yes" Hermione coughed through a dry throat, sitting upright and feeling quite comfortable, at least physically. "What happened?"

His smile faded, "You're memories have escaped you I see, ah yes, they would, they would. You'll be put right soon. You see, you've had a most traumatic experience; it's your body's way of forcing relaxation. Think of it as a short holiday."

"A holiday!?" Hermione was horrified, "what traumatic event? What happened?" Her eyes grew wide, "are Harry and Ron…?"

"They are fine, they are fine. Forgive my poor choice of words, old age you know. No, Professor Snape will be in shortly with a potion to help you remember. In the mean time" Dumbledore grunted as he stood up and headed toward the door, "I need a spot of Molly's tea." The door shut softly behind him as he made a swift exit.

Hermione sat gob smacked. "What the hell?" she said aloud as she stared wide eyed at the door. _Snape, Molly, what are they doing here? What am I doing here? Where am I?_

She looked around the room in a frantic panic, jumping out of her bed heading steadfast towards the large, black door. Attempting to turn the knob, she found it was locked. As she reached for her wand she noticed it missing from her night-gown. She turned on her heel and directed herself towards her small, non-descript bed where she found a mess of white sheets and nothing else. The walls were blank, the room small and noticeably emptied of furniture. Even the chair Dumbledore had apparently sat was missing. The corners had few candles that sat high near the ceiling and the floors were polished wood and nothing more.

Suddenly Hermione felt caged, yet as soon as her body felt rage a soft calm hit her link a tonne of bricks and she plonked to the floor. She stood back up, reasonably disorientated and confused as she examined her problem again. As she stomped towards the door this time, however, she crashed directly into an emerging Professor Snape.

"Get up you silly girl!" Snape looked down upon her with a snarl, his eyes were dark and mean and his arms were folded.

Hermione bounced to her feet and stared forcibly into his eyes. "What am I doing here!?" Her rage boiled again and was just as swiftly countered with a calm that dizzied her, but didn't make her fall.

"There is no point in getting angry," Snape noted precisely, "You have been given a potion that counteracts anger at the moment it is felt."

In and out of dizziness Hermione realised what her Professor was saying was true. She took a large breath and closed her eyes, focussing on soothing thoughts like the smell of old books and freshly mowed lawn in the summer. Opening her eyes again she felt focussed and determined to find out what was happening.

"Now you are clear of mind, I would like you to sit down and drink this." Snape handed Hermione a vial of pink coloured liquid, she stared at it for a moment as she remembered what Dumbledore had said. Hermione had two feet planted firmly on the floor as she gulped the potion greedily, but as the potion took effect, she found herself scrambling on the floor gasping for air.

"I told you to sit down," Snape said, seemingly bored of her situation. "It will only feel shocking for a moment, and then it will be like you had never forgotten."

Hermione crawled on the floor and clutched at his robes as the painful memories flooded her brain. Gripes, Snape, everything came back to her at once. Suddenly, just as Snape had said, she felt fine, as if she had never forgotten. She stood up and dusted her gown off. She looked up at Snape tentatively with her wide brown eyes. "I remember coming to you, and you putting me out, but I don't remember how I ended up here."

"Come with me." Snape pulled the door open with a sigh and directed her into the dark hallway. "There are many here who would like to see you."

Hermione stood frozen in front of a group of highly renowned wizards, most of whom were in The Order, all of whom were staring at her in her night gown. _This has got to be a nightmare_, she thought as she looked to her feet, twiddling her thumbs in front of her. She felt like a freak on show and looked sadly towards the kindest face in the crowd to save her.

Tonks moved swiftly towards her, "Oh, would you all quit gawking at the poor girl. Sorry dear, I didn't realise." She gave a swift flick of her wand and Hermione was suddenly clothed in what seemed to be an old band shirt and patched jeans from Tonks' wardrobe. Tonks seemed pleased with herself as she merged back into the crowd who were gathered in the dimly lit kitchen of no. 12 Grimmauld pl, The Order Headquarters.

"I fear," Dumbledore entered the room somewhat carefully, head tilted down, eyes peering over his half moon glasses, "that staring at young Miss Granger here will not help our case, nor will it help her self esteem."

Hermione felt a sudden surge of gratefulness as the crowd coughed and murmured looking away from her to other objects in the room.

"Molly dear, please make this young lady a spot of tea and some toast, we have much to talk about and she needs her strength." Dumbledore conjured a chair for both himself and Hermione as Molly and the rest busied themselves with breakfast. Snape paced towards them and conjured a chair for himself, seating himself next to Dumbledore.

"Allow me get to the point." Dumbledore leaned toward Hermione, the familiar twinkle still in his eyes. "You had an episode last night, one which seems almost unexplainable. You hurt yourself quite badly, seemingly with a fit of sorts, culminating with your passing out. You've had similar episodes I am to understand."

"Yes," Hermione looked down, almost embarrassed, as if it was something she could prevent.

"No need to feel embarrassed Miss Granger, your situation is undoubtedly unique and with that comes some surprises." Dumbledore glanced towards Snape for a moment with a small frown and then turned back towards Hermione. "You understand that you've quickly become a danger to yourself, and a danger to others?"

"I…I didn't mean to…" Hermione stole a glance towards Snape and quickly snapped her eyes back to the floor.

"No, you certainly didn't. It wasn't you Hermione, I'm afraid Gripes is becoming a stronger force in you."

Hermione gulped. She knew he was strong, somehow she could almost feel him stirring inside her, every time she felt angry, every time she felt lost or helpless. Hermione shrunk back in her chair and Dumbledore stared at her intently.

"I feel that it would be careless of me to allow you to go on without proper protection and guidance. Therefore I feel it is a must to remove you from Hogwarts for the time being."

"No!" Hermione gasped. He couldn't take her away from her school, her friends, her home. "You can't!" Hermiones eyes began to well.

"I am sorry, but you shall continue your studies you need not worry, and after time your friends may visit. I am afraid I have to put my foot down on this."

"So I'm to be imprisoned? I'm to be quarantined!? Trapped, caged like a rat scratching at doors!?" Hermiones rage swept at her again and like a rush of blood to the head it was gone.

"I'm afraid it is for your own good." Dumbledore sat back, his eyes losing their glint for a mere moment. "You will be staying here, different Order members will be with you at all times. Severus will be training you. You will not leave this house without him by your side."

Hermiones dizziness subsided into hopelessness. She called upon herself to be bigger then this sudden hatred for Dumbledore she felt, and her stubbournness came through for her. "I'm sorry Professor, I just…I'm just so tired of it all."

"I'm sorry too dear girl. This is a lot to ask of someone, to be strong against all odds."

Hermione sighed. "At least now I know some extent of what Harry feels."

Dumbledore leaned back towards Hermione with a small smile. "Both yourself and Harry are more alike then either of you may ever imagine."


	7. Chapter 7

Her new bedroom was filled with a lot more life once Hermione had unpacked most of her things. She had decorated it with Griffindor colours, red and gold splashed across the room, lighting the place with candles and fireflies Harry, Ron and her had caught weeks ago in the Hogwarts grounds. She meandered through her things, mulling over photos and little treasures that reminded her of Hogwarts. An ache in her stomach had replaced her sadness as she tried to toss things into newly conjured drawers as if they didn't matter. The sounds of her memories were interrupted by the sound of swift footsteps entering the room.

"Thanks for letting me have my wand back" Hermione didn't turn to face him, instead concentrating on a transfiguration text book in her lap.

"It was Dumbledores decision, not mine." Snape gave the room a quick sickened look, obviously directed at the Griffindor paraphernalia spread across the room. "I see you have made yourself at home."

"As much as one can in this place." Hermione refused to spare him a glance.

"Well…best get used to it." Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably. He walked towards her slowly, removing a vial from his pocket and placing it on her dresser next to her. "This will help you sleep. I will be down the hall." Snape turned, walking swiftly to the door.

"Why…" Hermione started, but he was gone.

For two weeks Snape slept down the hall from Hermione as she trailed her way around Grimmauld pl. Hermione took her potions, did her study, slept when Snape said sleep, ate when Snape said eat and moved in a zombie like state, unable to feel the natural state of anything.

Snape observed her during the day, and scribbled notes at night. He gave her lessons yet distanced himself in everything else.

Hermione felt entirely uncomfortable in this position, his dark eyes constantly staring at her as she ate, as she worked, as she attempted to gaze off into the distance imagining herself in another place far, far away from there. She had given up trying to speak to him after the second day, when he had taken her wand away from her again after she attempted a conversation spell on him while his back was turned.

The potions made her weak, her mind grew fuzzier and her will to study, eat, drink and move died a little more each day. During a Transfiguration lesson, after her mind had wandered into nothingness more then once, Hermione finally asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for the past two weeks. She raised her hand.

"Yes Miss Granger." Snape stood tall, his eyes sharp.

"I'm not," Hermione breathed heavily, "I'm not sure _how_ watching me grow weaker and weaker off potions everyday is helping you understand this unique situation I'm in. I'm not sure how me losing my will to live, to breath, could possibly help me."

"Miss Granger," Snape said authoritatively, "you understand that you have been here for two weeks, yes?"

"Yes…" Hermione sighed, her heavy head collapsing on her desk in sheer frustration.

"I would like you to think for a moment, a task which surely can't be too hard, unless under all that bushy brown hair you have somehow lost your brain. Think about what I've been so determined to do here."

Hermione looked up, he insulted her sure, but it seemed almost as if he was actually going to answer her, a revelation which both astounded and frightened her.

Snape gave her a short, confounded look and turned away. "I have been observing you, to see you in your natural state."

Hermione wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that this is very obviously not her natural state, and the potions are to blame, but she just couldn't be bothered.

"Yet obviously, your natural state has changed dramatically. The potions do not alter your emotional range or your personality. They simply suppress the state of rage you have become so accustomed to lately."

Hermione didn't believe him.

"After watching you deteriorate over time, I have come to an alarming conclusion. It seems, with his inability to release himself through you in bouts of an unstable emotional state, Gripes is weakening you from the inside."

Hermione looked up at Snape, his voice had softened as he spoke those last words and although he was turned away from her, she felt his concern in his voice.

"I spoke to Professor Dumbledore this morning and he agrees that we must allow for a controlled environment in which Gripes may have his _time_, so to speak. This means, I'm afraid, that you will be taken off my potion starting tomorrow, and you will need to be kept in more restricted confines until we can understand how to make you stable."

Hermione felt a sudden surge of blind panic. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" She crouched to the floor, tears flooding, rocking back and forth.

Snape moved towards her slowly, bending at the knees looking upon her with sincere eyes. "It's the only way."

As she lay on her bed, door locked, candles out and eyes wide, Hermione missed her friends. She wondered if they were ok, if they knew about her, if they knew where she was, if they missed her. She thought about the big quidditch match she missed, the classes they had together, the fun they had together. Hagrid suddenly sprung to mind as someone very much missing from the group two weeks ago in the kitchen, and she suddenly felt guilty for not noticing sooner. She wanted to know if they were ok, she wanted to be with all of them, she wanted to be safe at Hogwarts and not with her cold potions professor in this dreary shell of a house.

She thought about Snape, and how he was only meant to be training her, how she was meant to be looked after by other Order members. She wondered why he had stayed on, why he was still there.

Most of all, however, she thought about Gripes. The upside to being weakened, it seemed, was that it took away her fear. It took away the burden of her anxiety and left her with pure calculated thought. She analysed Gripes actions to date, the things she knew about him. Snape had described him as cold and troubled, Hermione added psychotic, angry, intelligent, cunning and ambiguous to that list. She had quickly determined that if he had some control over her, then she had some control over him and should somehow be able to tap into his own mind processes. She lay there, quietly determined to get the upper hand on Gripes. The potion had been waring off and she felt her old self coming back.

It was another three hours before she heard the door swing open and a voice whisper _Lumos_ as it entered the room. She sprang to her feet, her eyes adjusting to the light to see a Snape shaped silhouette through the light of the wand.

"I have come to check on you, the potion should have worn off by now. How do you feel?" Snape whispered, his voice husky with exhaustion.

"I feel, well I feel really good actually." Hermione said slightly baffled by herself, she neither felt tired nor sad. She simply felt glad to be near Snape, glad he had cared.

Snape illuminated the room and began to circle Hermione, wand at the ready, suspicion lacing his face.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione giggled. "I said I feel fine, great really. I'm sure the potion wearing off has just given me a little high is all."

Snape halted in front of her, staring into her eyes. He took his wand and pointed it directly at her chest. "Potions don't give you highs when they wear off Miss Granger." The last words were spoken pointedly.

Hermione was perplexed. She had no idea why she felt great but she didn't care, she was in a room, safe with a man, nay, a wizard who protected her, helped her and cared for her. "Oh dear, must be something else then. Oh well." She giggled again. "Looks like you'll have to protect me from the big bad some more."

Snape looked stumped. He frowned severely at her, yet her smiling eyes did not flinch. There were potions that could have this affect but there was no way in which she could have gotten hold of them. Her eyes didn't have the vacant expression those kind of potions gave people anyhow, her eyes were sincere, unfaltering.

"I really appreciate you Professor. I appreciate what you've done for me. What you're doing for me." Hermione took a step towards him, her eyes wide and her hands behind her back.

Snape found himself closer to her then he felt comfortable with. A waft of apple scent came his way as he took a deep breath. He found himself slightly dazed, looking into her eyes, and his wand still at her chest.

"You're important to me, Severus." Her chest heaved as she stepped ever closer to him. Her eyes burrowed into his as he grew weak at the knees, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long while.

"I…I…" Snape stuttered.

"Shhh…no need to say anything, I know how you feel." Hermione gave a slight smile and timidly placed her hand around his wand hand, leaning towards him. Her lips grew soft as they came ever closer to his, her breath tickling them.

BANG!!

Hermione was thrown to the other side of the room. Suddenly she felt a pointed wand end at her throat.

"You think your little love spell games will work on me!?" Snape was furious.

"It was worth a shot, old friend." Hermione struggled to talk under the pressure of the wand.

"I was never your friend." Snape said coolly, eyes bearing down on her.

"Well, that was obvious when you killed me!" Hermione chuckled trying to attain eye contact with him.

"You'll do best to look away, or I will make you regret it."

"Oh, I'm so terribly frightened. If you hurt me, you hurt the girl, and believe me she will feel the brunt of the pain." Hermiones mouth grew wide as she gave a sick smile.

"She doesn't remember…"

"Oh but she will, we are becoming more alike everyday, soon she'll feel everything I feel…know everything I know."

"You filthy liar, you are two separate entities." Snape remained cool, his words careful.

Hermione giggled. "This snivelling brat will become my slave, my servant. She will do everything I tell her too and when the time comes, you won't have the guts to do what you need to do to stop me."

A shot of hot white light flew out the end of Snapes wand and Hermione folded to the floor. Snape caught her head, picked her up in a swoop and set her in bed. "Yes, I will." Snape whispered as he pulled the door shut behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a week before Hermione was back to normal after that big blow. Snape was certainly a powerful wizard and Hermione had to feel the brunt of that power. The morning after, when she woke, she whispered this into Snapes ear, telling him that Gripes was indeed right, that she would feel it and as an after-thought noted that Gripes was right about everything- they were indeed one in the same.

Subsequently, Snape and Hermione had spent the past week in deep mediation. Snape had decided it was time to step the training up a notch, concluding, as Hermione had already, that she must have some control over Gripes. The meditations were, simply put, in-depth legilimency lessons that Hermione had to attempt inside herself. Snape noted many a time, much to Hermione's annoyance that this was unprecedented, and it would take all her skill, precision and dedication to achieve it.

It had in fact so far been much easier to access Gripes then Snape or even Hermione had imagined. After Gripes' confrontation with Snape, Hermione had already retained the memory of the entire conflict including, to enhance an already awkward relationship, her- that is to say Gripes attempted seduction. During the course of a week she began to access Gripes memories from her first meeting with Snape all the way to the glass smashing incident. She remembered her crazed excitement and the intensity of her emotions. Most of all, she remembered the intense hatred she felt for Snape, yet she also caught herself feeling a small sense of seemingly unexplainable and contradictory affection for him.

Hermione had started to enjoy the meditations. She began to trust Snape, so much so, that she had let down her well trained occlumens barrier, allowing him full access into her thoughts. Her trust came from an overwhelming sense of gratitude she felt for him. He had explained that he hadn't let others take care of her for he felt she needed the extra attention of someone completely aware of her situation and had insisted to Dumbledore that he should be in sole care of her for the time being. Of course he did not say this to her in these words, nor all at once, more in disjointed, mumbling and resentful fragments over the course of a few days, but Hermione caught the drift.

After accessing her brain like a kid let loose in a theme park with free rides, Snapes respect for Hermione grew. He steered clear of her very personal thoughts of which he grew ever more curious, but it became clear that she had a maturity level that far surpassed her age, and her intelligence was far more affluent then he had once thought. He accessed memories of her childhood, filled with consistent library visits and more reading then even Snape could claim to. He fixated on her childhood memories in order to find out whether she had ever known Gripes in one way or another. In his search he found facets of Hermiones memories showing her as a three year old in a psychologist's office, her parents telling of her imaginary friend telling her to do things she oughtn't.

"Dr. Gibbons, we have tried to talk sense into her…she's been, she's been…" Hermiones mother was distraught; her father gave her a reassuring pat on the hand. "She's been _killing_ small animals. She's been giggling about it. She says she was _told_ to do it, that they _wanted_ to die."

Dr. Gibbons shifted in his chair and coughed uncomfortably. He scribbled something on a note pad and looked over his spectacles at the worried parents with stern eyes. "Sometimes children act out as a result of discomfort in their home life. They tend to make up imaginary friends as a way of disconnecting themselves from their own actions. Tell me, are you and your husband having any problems?"

The mother shook her head before collapsing into her lap sobbing.

"It's not just _what _she does Doctor," the father chimed in, "It's _how _she does it."

The memory faded as Snape felt himself pushed from Hermiones mind. Hermione had suppressed that memory a long time ago and she wasn't ready to rehash. Snape let it go for the moment, writing it on a scroll and storing it under his desk.

The exercises came to a standstill a week after they had started. The day had been like any other, apart from the fact Hermione had finally been out of pain. The bond between Snape and Hermione had grown as their isolation bred routine. Breakfast, external occlumency and legilimens, lunch, internal occlumency and legilimens followed by dinner and heavy reading before bed. That morning Snape seemed a little chirpier then usual, which in his case meant he was almost not pessimistic about the day. Hermione was free of her pain and also in a much better mood. The morning went better then expected and after lunch both Hermione and Snape anticipated wondrous things.

When the time came though, Hermiones brain had been sealed tight like a vice. Hermione was unable to access Gripes at any level beyond what she had already known. Snape drilled her, digging through her mind, pushing away irrelevant thoughts to allow her access in to Gripes, yet he was shut off completely. The more Hermione tried the harder and more painful it became. Eventually she leapt out of her meditative state.

"I can't get in. I just can't do it." Hermione huffed, feeling slightly dizzy as she stood up and made her way towards the kitchen.

"He is obviously now aware of your ability and stepping it up a notch. You've done it before, you can do it again. Now sit down!" Snape stood up, adopted a stern teacher's stance and pointed towards the spot Hermione had left.

Hermione slammed the cup she had filled with water on the kitchen table. "Severus, I will NOT be spoken to like that!" Hermione clamped her hands over her mouth and stared wide eyed at Snape.

Snape looked at her curiously. He did not fire up as was his normal reaction, instead paced towards her, held her by the arms and sat her down at a kitchen chair. He stared at her hard. "Hermione?"

Hermione removed her hands from her mouth, still wide eyed. "Yes?" She answered stupidly.

Snape sat beside her, seemingly flabbergasted. "I allow very few people to call me by my first name…" His words stopped. He dropped his head in his hand, pushing back his long hair. "I've noticed your mannerisms are changing Hermione."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. He had never addressed her so casually before and certainly never by her first name.

"I fear that you are becoming more and more like Gripes every day."

Hermione wasn't shocked by this revelation. She remembered what Gripes had said to Snape, that they were one in the same. She had also caught herself doing things out of the ordinary. She carried herself differently on occasion, strange thoughts popped into her head at random and she felt an ever-growing sense of security, almost arrogance inside herself that had never been present before.

"Can I speak candidly?" Hermione enquired, she felt it was time to bring her theories to the forefront.

Snape turned his body towards her and leaned forward, gesturing for her to go on.

"I feel him inside me. I've told you this. The thing is what I haven't told you is probably much more important." Hermione stopped, searching for her words carefully. "He makes me feel powerful. This past week especially, I think my powers are growing. Of course, I haven't had my wand to test this theory, but I can just _feel_ it. I think he allowed me access to his memories. I think he's trying to manipulate me. I'm just not sure what he's trying to accomplish." Hermione leaned toward Snape, locking her eyes on his. "But, I think whatever it is, it has something to do with you."

Snape searched her eyes, and found clarity and sincerity in them. "You think he wants revenge?"

"No." Hermione said quite pointedly. "I think it's something deeper, I think its more important then just simple revenge. He would have killed you if it were that."

"What makes you think it's so simple?"

"I just _know_ that he is fully capable of using me as his puppet. I feel closer to you now, and I think…I think I'm beginning to care about you, I'm not sure Gripes would let me unless it was for his gain."

Snape shifted, leaning back against the chair.

"I think, no, I'm certain that you must steer clear of me. I know he is plotting something and all of this is part of some kind of game. If you stay, I just…I can't." Hermione stopped as her eyes started to well with tears. She turned her head and wiped them on her sleeve. "I can't be responsible for what I…Gripes does to you."

Snape gave a soft laugh. "Always a know-it-all." He mused, standing with a grunt and walking towards the lounge room. He turned towards her, his long robes swishing around his feet and two fingers at his chin. He stared at her from across the room, the space between them wide. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But Sev…I mean, Professor, I don't think you underst…"

"I understand more then you can imagine." Snape stepped towards her slowly, his voice silky and calm. "I know he has control over you, I know he taints your thoughts, your actions and most importantly, your emotions. He wants you to believe he is stronger than you, but I know that you are stronger than him."

"But how…"

"Because you are here. It is to _you_ I speak. It is your mind I witness here before me, your soul shining through this physical encasement." Snape grew ever closer to her, before bending toward her and staring deep into her eyes, forcing her to bend back under him. "I have searched the breadth of your mind and have found it stretches further then any I have ever encountered before. You are vast, dear Hermione, and you can fight this."

"I can't…It's his strength inside me, not my own."

Snape took Hermione by the arms once again and shook her. "You are strong! It is _your_ strength you feel. You have been fighting to keep him inside, forcing him inside all your life without even realising it. You're insufferable ego has been your saving grace and _will_ get you through this."

Hermiones eyes fixed on his. She was entranced as she heard the passion in his voice, as she felt his breath on her lips. His warmth spread over her as she leaned towards him and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. She felt his lips spread with the force of her tongue and her head went light as chills ran through her. His weight fell on her as he met fire with fire, lifting his hands to her bushy hair and pushing her mouth hard towards his with a groan of intense pleasure. They tangled together on the chair, a mess of hands and lips roaming over each other in quick delight until the unsteady chair gave way and fell backwards, taking both Hermione and Snape with it.

"Ow!" Hermione giggled as Snape rolled off her, out of breath. She turned towards him with a heaving chest and a small smile to find her face met with the end of his black robes swooshing away from her. She sat up quickly to watch him walk swiftly towards his quarters, slamming the door behind him.

As Hermione lay there stunned, a sudden flash came to her. She was in a yard, her heart was racing and she was limping. She felt incredibly weak and frightened. A loud crack came from behind and as she spun around pointing her wand she yelled "Avada Ked…"

"Expelliarmus!"

She turned toward a glass window. She was empty handed yet fully focused on what she needed to do as she threw herself through it. Her skin cut and her body sore, she struggled to pull her self off the ground. Turning around with a grunt, she saw Snapes cold, black eyes meet hers. As a baby's scream was heard from behind a flash of green light came her way and suddenly, she was on the kitchen floor, panting and covered in sweat. The room was dark and she was alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Authors note: I'd like to thanks everyone who's been reviewing this story. I appreciate every single review I get and eagerly await more. I would also like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. I really hope you enjoy this chapter, because the next one is going to be a ripper.

"Remus, I need to get out. I need to get out of this place." Hermione felt strangled. She had been stuck at Headquarters for going on a month, unable to see the light of day in the dank hell hole, let alone take in a breath of fresh air.

"Dear girl, I am sorry," Remus went to put his arm around her, yet upon seeing the glare that crossed her eyes, thought better of it. "You know that if I could, I would…but I just c…"

"_Get the MUDBLOOD out of MY HOUSE!_" The portrait of Walburga Black shrieked. Since Snapes sudden departure the portrait started up again, though Hermione had never even considered the shrill voice's absence until it started screaming 'mudblood' into the night.

Hermione felt defeated and Remus felt hopeless in the task of trying to cheer her up. He understood too well what it was like to feel an uncontrollable presence inside him, yet, by the same token, knew that nothing he could say or do could make things better for her.

"I'll make you a cup of tea." Remus stood up and walked towards the doorway.

"Tea!? I'm sick of bloody tea!" Hermione threw her pillow at him for no purpose other then to relieve her own frustration. It didn't work. "I just want to go outside! I just want to breathe. I'm suffocating in here! I miss everything about the outside world, I miss the sun, I miss the air and I miss my friends!" In fact, although Hermione did miss all of these things, the one thing that had been driving her mad had been something entirely unexpected. Her want, moreover her _need_ for Snape.

She hadn't seen him since their interlude at the kitchen table. He had slipped out of the house and she was met the next morning by Remus, who hadn't left her side since. Remus told her Snape had 'unfinished business to take care of' and she wasn't to 'take it personally.' _As if this isn't personal_ she thought as she pulled the covers to her ears to let Remus know she didn't wish to see him any longer.

Truth be told, her thoughts hadn't strayed from Snape since she had accessed Gripes memory of that night. She felt a rush of unfathomable hatred seep into her with the picture in her mind of his cold, black and distant eyes. This was challenged by a feeling of overwhelming care for him that she couldn't shake off. Her thoughts always, in loud or quiet moments, strayed to Snape and that kiss.

"Look, I've told you already. I'm under strict orders by Dumbledore to keep you inside." Remus assumed an authoritative tone. He felt sorry for Hermione, but he had been trapped in the house with her too and was growing weary of her childlike antics.

Hermione stood up calmly and walked towards Remus, collapsing at his feet. "Remus, all I am asking is for one moment outside, one moment out of these walls just to regain my senses. I'm begging you, please. You can come out with me and follow me back in. I have no wand; I have no way of breaking free. One moment…please…" She trailed off, sobbing.

Remus picked her deflated frame up by her arm with ease. She was so weak and frail, having refused food for almost a week he had to practically drag her to the entrance hall. As they moved towards the portrait, it screamed with delight.

"_The MUDBLOOD and the DOG are leaving! The filthy scum are going! That's it! Leave you snivelling SWINE!_"

Both Hermione and Remus sensed that if she could dance, she would.

Remus didn't say a word. He simply dragged her to the front door and using his wand, unlocked it. The door flung open and the light of day filled the room. The portrait was cackling as Remus let go of Hermione, allowing her to step out into the crisp, cool air of early spring. Hermione gave Remus a quick smile before squinting into the light, stepping with care onto the front porch. She looked towards the sky, and with a deep breath and a large smile, she disappeared.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a nightgown, barefoot and entirely out of place amidst a crowd of wizards. Noting the surrounding shop windows and highly flustered crowd, she deduced that she was in Diagon Alley. _But how?_ She wondered, as she swatted her hands on all sides of her, bumping them into things and people, making sure they were real. _I must be dreaming._

After being noticed by one too many witches and wizards that looked as if they had just turned the corner from Knockturn Alley she ducked between Magical Menageries and Gambol & Japes to scan the crowd. The first thing she noticed about the crowd was their complete lack of interest in any of the shops, in fact, it seemed as though they were all focussed on something directly in front of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The crowd were pushing towards the spot, all on their toes seeking a good look. Hermione peered around the corner of Magical Menageries to get a better look, but was suddenly knocked about the ankles by an angry looking House Elf who took absolutely no notice and continued steadfast towards the illusive spot.

The crowd was already loud, but suddenly a deafening roar came about from them, and not a happy one at that. The crowd jeered and booed and hissed for what seemed as long as Hermione could bear until an ear splitting sound came from the bank to which everyone fell dead silent.

_You have all heard about the sudden crisis_.

Hermione recognised the booming voice straight away to be that of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. A voice Hermione had become a little too familiar with over the past few years.

_Rest assured there is absolutely nothing to panic about. We have the situation well under control._

The crowd started yelling and hissing, and again came the cracking of the ear drums.

_Now, now please, calm down. The escapees will be detained soon enough. We have our best Aurors on hand. It will only be a matter of time. _

"Yeah, a matter of time till we're all DEAD!" A large wizard with a deep voice shouted dramatically from the audience while they all concurred with sporadic cries and jeers.

Hermione wasn't sure what to think. _Who's escaped?_ She figured they must be wizards of some power and importance to stir up a crowd such as this. It must be new news too she thought, as it seemed it was a general assumption that if such news came with morning toast, most Wizarding families would have stayed home that day. Hermiones curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to brave the hostile crowd in order to at least get a glimpse at Fudge.

She shoved her way through the crowd, feeling an old strength in her. Her normally polite manner had vanished replaced by an intense need to find out what was going on. The muffled voice of fudge came through the crowd.

_Now, now, let's not refer to them as 'Death Eaters', they are merely…_

She pushed her newly thin frame further through and managed to almost get to the front when she felt her nightgown being tugged at. This made her fall backwards into somebodies arms as she twisted and tugged to get away from them. When she eventually stopped, exhausted and smothered by the mob around her, she looked up to find a set of unmistakable, glaring eyes peering down at her.

Without a word Snape pulled her out of the throng and marched towards Knockturn Alley. Throwing her down recklessly onto an old stack of the Daily Prophet, he turned away from her angrily. "What the HELL are you doing here!?" Snape had officially lost his cool.

"I…" Hermione started.

"Don't!" Snape swung round with dagger eyes. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her further into Knockturn Alley, which was noticeably silent and still. "I do not want to hear your damned excuses!" He spat as he roughly let go of her arm and began to pace. "I could kill Remus! How could he be so STUPID!? I knew that mangy dog hadn't changed!"

"He only let me outside!" Hermione spat back, staring at him with contempt.

"He only let you outside, HAH! He let you disapparate!"

"But I didn't…"

"Of course you did you stupid girl, how else could you get here!?" Snape ignored Hermiones protests as he pulled her into Borgin & Burkes, which was open, yet completely deserted of wizards, including the store owner. He conjured a stool and sat her down on it, conjuring another for him. He seemed to refuse to let go of Hermiones arm, squeezing it so tight it began to hurt her.

"Ow!" She pulled her arm away which made Snape clench even tighter.

"Oh no, I am not stupid, I will not allow you to go anywhere." Snape seemed distressed, constantly looking around him, sweating as if he wasn't sure what to do. "We are first going to have a small chat," his voice calmed a little, "and then we will pay a visit to Dumbledore. I'm sure he'll have a lot to say to you."

Hermione looked at Snapes sweaty brow and felt his heart pump through his hand. She knew something big was going on and she could read all over Snapes normally calm face that he was frightened. Hermione felt compelled to comfort him, to hold him and to keep him safe but instead she turned her eyes away and stared at the filthy floor below.

"What do you know about today's events? What did you hear!?" Snapes voice was hushed.

"I…I…"

"Speak, girl, speak!" Snape shook her as if to wake her up.

"I heard prisoners escaped, that's it, that's all I know."

"You don't know who?"

"No." Hermione lied.

"Are you sure!? Are you absolutely certain you didn't hear anything, perhaps in passing?" Snape looked at her with wide, eager eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Snape looked relieved and loosened his grip. Without a word he stood up, pulling Hermione with him and with a turn and a crack, they were gone.


End file.
